Tropical Dragon Diver (Shifting Sands Resort 5)

It was the kind of thing her sisters did without thought, and though she didn’t tend to do the same herself, she had been so baffled by her lack of influence on the otter shifter that she’d been curious to give her gift a test on someone else.

She had been gratified to see that her power was still intact, but the waiter had reacted more strongly than she’d expected. Bastian’s reaction was even more over the top, a crazy-protective rush to defend her that Saina hadn’t expected at all; her song hadn’t been focused on him whatsoever. Saina couldn’t decide if her magic was unpredictable in this place, or if she simply wasn’t controlling it as well as she ought to because of her injury.

She could stop the chaos, of course, but it meant getting to her feet and singing a counterpart to the strife, a sweet, lilting lullaby that soothed everyone in earshot.

The conflict dissolved away to not even memory, and the waiter left to fetch her drink while Bastian sat and tried to feed her from her plate.

After just a few bites, she took the fork from him and insisted on feeding herself. Bastian watched her intently.

“Your chef is as good as you claimed,” she said, several bites into the flaky fish. Some of her exhaustion faded with the food.

Bastian looked as pleased with her praise as if he’d cooked it himself. “We’re lucky to have him.”

Saina could see the questions in his eyes, behind the infatuated obsession she still convinced she had put there, and she moved to intercept them.

“This whole place is simply lovely,” she said honestly. “Tell me more about it! Jenny said we were in Costa Rica.”

Bastian nodded. “The whole island is privately owned. Scarlet is the owner of the resort, she just leases the property. Most of it is wild jungle, but there’s a private compound at the other end, and an airstrip on the north side. We get charters in a few days a week.”

“You’re the lifeguard?” It was a question with an obvious answer; Bastian was still wearing his uniform and had a first aid kit at his waist.

He nodded. “I watch the beach and pool.”

“You’ll have to give me a tour tomorrow,” Saina said.

“I’d love to,” Bastian said, a smile on his handsome lips.

She didn’t want to stay longer than she had to, but it would be a day or two before her shoulder was completely healed. And the idea of a tour was strangely appealing, especially with Bastian as her guide.

She considered again the idea that she’d fallen under her own spell. Having him feed her had been unexpectedly erotic, and she found herself watching the way his hands moved, and the muscles in his jaw as he spoke. His hair begged for a hand to smooth it back, and Saina had to keep herself from doing it herself several times.

This was not how her magic was supposed to work. It was baffling enough that Bastian was still enchanted. She should be coolly indifferent, like a proper siren.

“I understand this resort is for shifters only?”

Bastian nodded, that unruly curl at his forehead bobbing with his earnestness. “There’s been some talk about allowing humans to accompany shifter guests, but yes.”

Saina glanced at the other scattered guests, all dining peacefully at other tables. She wondered what their forms were, what their ulterior motives were, and how they had gotten the kind of money it would take to vacation at a place this nice.

“It’s good luck you found me,” Saina said cautiously. “I’m very grateful.”

Bastian’s eyes glowed. “I don’t think it was luck,” he said, voice low and full of emotion. “I think it was destiny.”

He would, Saina thought achingly.

She attempted to deflect the intensity. “Any other resort would have been quite baffled by how quickly I healed,” she said with a light smile.

“Will you tell me what happened?”

He asked so respectfully that Saina found it difficult not to answer. She was actually surprised that no one had been more pointed about quizzing her over it. Did people show up at this resort half-drowned and with bullet wounds often?

She took a bite of a luscious scarlet strawberry to buy her a few moments. “It was a disagreement over

ownership,” she said evasively.

Bastian’s eyes grew flinty. “Of you,” he guessed.

Close enough, Saina thought. She looked at her nearly empty plate, flooded with guilt and shame, and couldn’t answer. How could she explain to this earnest man that it was supposed to be in her nature to sow strife and chaos in her wake? And why did it feel so wrong?